


Homeward

by opalmatrix



Category: CJ Cherryh - Alliance Universe
Genre: F/M, Families of Choice, Military, Teamwork, Yuletide, challenge:Yuletide 2007, recipient:Sholio
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-12-17
Updated: 2007-12-17
Packaged: 2017-10-12 04:20:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,165
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/120705
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/opalmatrix/pseuds/opalmatrix
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>As the Company War takes another grim turn for the Fleet, Ben, Dekker, Meg, and Sal face a devastating challenge to their partnership.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Homeward

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Sholio](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sholio/gifts).



> Warnings: swearing, violence, offstage m/f sex  
> Spoilers: Massive for _Hellburner_ ; some for _Heavy Time_ and _Downbelow Station_  
>  Acknowledgments: Beta by my sister and fellow Cherryh fan A.; encouragement from [sanada](http://sanada.livejournal.com/), my sis-in-law E., and the Mr.; and to Herself, C.J. Cherryh, for keeping me entertained and inspired for 25+ years.

## I.

  


It wasn't unusual for two ships to meet at a nullpoint, even one as obscure as Kei's. But Magritte Kady - Meg to almost everyone but the official Earth Company records - certainly hoped that every single other such meeting had been under better circumstances that this.

EC Rider _Salvador_ \- Pilot Paul F. Dekker, Co-Pilot Magritte Kady, Longscanner Benjamin J. Pollard. and Armscomper Soheila Aboujib - was running guard on a ship-boarding action, along with her partner EC Rider _Manau_ s. EC Rider _Belem_ was grappled-to, and her complement of marines was currently carrying out orders from Captain Tavo Barros of the ECS-33 _Brazil_ aboard their target: not some Union carrier or spy vessel, but the family merchanter _Shinkyo Maru_ , a civilian ship with the misfortune of being registered to a Union home port.

Inside her V-HUD helmet, _Salvador_ 's co-pilot closed her eyes briefly, even though there was no point to it. The view would not have changed significantly when she opened them again, and that was the pity of it.

She should have died before this.

And then she thought, no. Because that would have meant all four of them should have died. And although she knew her partners hated what the Earth Company Fleet was becoming, as support and supply from Earth became more and more sparse, she was not certain that they felt it as deeply as she did. Even though this was the third time. Nearly six weeks ago, it had been the _Dakar Star_ , and two months before that, the Lemieux' _Melusine_.

 _"Pretty slim pickins, Captain,"_ said the voice in their ears: Jay Csontos, commander of the boarding party. _"Standard rations, 520, 550 per-days, some basic shipkeeping stuff - little bit of med. Cargo's flour, rice, a little freezer-food, mining equipment parts, station life-support chem."_

 _"I copy, Csontos,"_ came Barros' reply. _"Make it up with volunteers, then, eh? Surely the Kimuras know what's at stake, yes? Better to see their kin aboard a Company carrier than mind-wiped on Cyteen's outback - you know the lines, JC."_

_"Roger that, Captain."_

Nothing, then, for another half an hour. _Salvador_ was running well: not a forgone conclusion, in these troubled times. Ideally, she should have had a complete re-fit 18 months ago, instead of the actual series of patch-jobs and make-dos. Meg fed Dek routine course information as the two riderships wove a pattern of defense around _Brazil_ and her prize, Ben and the _Manaus_ longscanner watching for anything else entering the nullpoint, Sal and the other armscomper on relaxed focus, awaiting orders. Suddenly, the com sputtered to life again, boarding party channel.

_"Coming in, Belem - 27 prisoners, and we got a problem. Standby, emergency boarding!"_

And hard on that, inter-ship channel from the _Shinkyo Maru_ : _"Brazil-com, I demand to speak to your captain! This is Captain Miho Kimura! We protest this outrage - !"_

There was noise behind the woman's voice, likely her kin, shouting, pleading.

 _"Salvador, Manaus - heads up!"_ It was the rider ops chief, Marwan Kazmi. _"Cover Belem's return - we detect ranging scan from the prize."_ And then, coldly, Thom Ngo, _Brazil_ 's Com One:

_"As you were, Shinkyo Maru. We are aware your armaments are live. This is an Earth Company Fleet military vessel. You are already an enemy partisan - any further action against us, and you become an enemy combatant."_

_"You can't take our family!"_ the Kimura's voice was hoarse. Meg took a deep breath and listened to the ridership channels as the _Belem_ 's co-pilot reported all personnel and prisoners aboard. She passed selections from Ben's nav information to Dek, who headed them in to cover their partner-rider's retreat. Ben was muttering under his breath - cursing - but Dek and Sal were silent. Then, on the freighter's channel -

_"Reo - don't ... !"_

A sudden flare on their displays. Sharp intake of breath from Dek and Sal, and Ben falling silent. "They fired," Sal said, hoarse. "The _Shinkyo_ \- fired on _Manaus_ ... ."

 _"Brazil, we're hit ..._!" Teb Posada's voice, Meg's opposite number on _Manaus_ , and hard on his exclamation: _"Status, Manaus!"_ The com crackled and hissed. The channel from the freighter was silent, as though every Kimura on the bridge was holding his or her breath.

 _"We have 80% maneuverability and power, for now. Life support stable, for now"_ said Teb at last, grim.

_"Belem, pull out and get back. Manaus, retreat."_

Meg flicked her mic to in-ship only. "We have a comm malfunction, guys."

Helmeted heads swung toward her for a second. "Um, OK," said Ben. "How come?"

"Next order's gonna be to fire on the freighter," she said flatly.

Now they were all looking at her. "And we're not," said Sal; "Right?"

 _"My people warned you, Kimura. This is a war, after all."_ Captain Barros himself was on _Brazil_ com, his tone chillingly jovial. Meg felt her fingers curl and her lips thin. "Damn straight we're not. Dek - "

"Between the others and the freighter, right?" His attention was already back to his own boards, fingers poised.

"And me - with the chaff?" That was Sal. Meg's chest eased a little: it was like they'd read her mind. "You got it, Aboujib."

"Insane," muttered Ben. He grabbed the data they'd need; in another heartbeat, it was at her station. "Damn - Kady, freighter's dropped a capsule."

A lifepod, he meant. _Shinkyo Maru_ suspected what was going to happen, and indeed: _"Salvador, she's all yours. No one screws with us. Blow `em!"_ And now they should answer, acknowledge the order. In a very few seconds, _Brazil_ would know something was wrong. Meg's gut tied itself into a knot, slowly. The rider channel reported that _Belem_ was ungrappled and pulling clear, and a scant second later, she had the nav to confirm it. "Go, Dek, go!"

 _Salvador_ 's mains cut in hard, slamming them into seats. They were suddenly approaching the other ships at frightening speed, but they'd all spent most of the last decade doing the like. The ship shuddered lightly, a series of tiny explosions: Sal with the chaff guns. With any luck, everyone would think they were just trying to improvise because they couldn't hear the orders.

 _"Salvador, damn it! Acknowledge!"_ Barros sounded severely pissed.

" _This is Belem - we're clear, Cap'n - we're on it ... ."_

"Damn, damn, _damn ..._! That effin' ass-wipe Klimo!" That was Ben; the Captain wasn't the only one pissed. "Kady, they got position, -"

_"For God's sake, Brazil - pick up the pod, at least! The kids ... ."_

From _Brazil_ , no response.

Ben was right: _Belem_ would be able to take a shot at the freighter before their chaff interposed itself. Even as the thought formed, she saw the flare of the first hit on the S _hinkyo Maru_. Now they had much less room to improvise. "Klimo's a damn hothead," muttered Ben.

"Yeah. But keep that one to yourself, Benjy cher, or they'll know we had live comm," she answered, distracted. The freighter still looked to be more or less intact - a rider's armaments weren't much compared to a carrier's - but then a second round came in, apparently from a different direction. _Manaus._ Damn. "Dek - "

"Yeah," he muttered, and started to pull them out of their dive toward the freighter ... as it blossomed into one huge flare. A bare second later, _Salvador_ rocked as debris hit her, but - Meg double-checked her status display - took no significant damage. And cheers were coming over the ridership channel from the crews of their sister ships.

"Sumbitches!" hissed Sal, and from the sound of it, was taking in breath to say more when a second flare exploded on their screens.

The escape pod. Full of the kids of the Kimura family.

_O God they did it, didn't they ... ?_

Serious death, she had been wont to say. But at this moment, she had no words for what her fellow crewmembers had just done.

## II.

  


_Salvador_ was limping in slower than she had to, but Dekker figured no one would question it, debris-scoured as they were. He sincerely hoped that by the time they were grappled-to and had cleared the cabin, the rider loft would be empty.

He was hoping even more fervently that all the Kimuras' unwilling conscripts would be well away, and that, in fact, he'd never need to set eyes on any of them.

Only half his wish was granted. The four of them were ambushed the moment they set foot in the loft. Taller than him by a good 6 inches, just as dark-haired, 15 years younger, and madder `n hell: _Belem's_ Posada.

"Goddammit to hell, Dekker, what were you spacecases up to out there, leaving us to cover _Manaus_ by ourselves? That freighter was no easy pickins. Shit-all you did for us today!"

"Teb, cher, anyone can have a comm problem." Meg, stepping in. She always did, had a faster mouth and a cooler head. And Sal and Ben were right behind her. No way he was worried about Teb Posada with them there.

"You know _Salvador_ 's just spit and chewing gum," Meg continued, easy and calm. "Just like yours. None of `em are - "

"Yeah, well I guess we proved we can _use_ our junk heap, didn't we? You're all getting _old_ , Kady. All of you've been flying since God was a neo ... ."  
Dekker set his jaw. He felt a hand on his shoulder, knew it was Ben's. And then Sal was standing there. Attitude on two legs, evil in her eye: "Sure thing, Tebbo. We copy. Takes a little boy with little balls to kill little kids."

Posada went white around the mouth. Then swung at her. But before he connected, Meg slapped his fist aside. Ben was about to kick the bastard's legs out from under him when a voice roared out "Hold it right there!"

That canned it. Mr. Mar. Marwan Kazmi, rider ops chief. Shorter than Posada, taller than Dek, unshakeable as a gravity well.

"Posada, take your ass down a couple notches. _Salvador_ 's're no neos, but it sure looks like they're fast enough for you, sonny. You're off duty - hit quarters, take a shower, chase the chill."

Posada went, as ordered - not happy. Dek could feel Mar's eye on him, now. "You four, watch your mouths. A kid like Posada may talk a tough line, but he's not any happier about what went down than you are." Mar's face had so many lines on it, he looked pissed even when he wasn't. "What the hell happened with you all, anyway? Your comm check was clean yesterday."

"Seriously, Mr. Mar, I dunno," said Meg. "Old bird like _Salvador_ \- rust happens, is all. We were hearing everyone, then we weren't. Saw the hit on _Manaus_ , couldn't tell what was shaking - decided we could chaff their fire, anyway. That's all, sir."

Mar looked from one face to the next, but didn't see anything he wanted. "Dekker. Kady. Pollard. Aboujib. You're our most senior crew. We depend on you to set an example ... ."

He couldn't stay still any longer. "Example of _what_ , Mr. Mar? We just killed a whole family, more than 200 of them. Moms, old guys, pregnant ladies, little _kids_ ... ." But Mar was just shaking his head.

"Think I don't know that? But it's us or them. Dekker. When was the last time Earth sent us supplies? Recruits? New ships? Those're freighters that trade Union, and we're still at war. I hate it. But we're in this together, all of us in the Fleet. We'll all win together - or all lose, if we can't get supplied." Mar stopped, then punched him lightly on the shoulder. "You four - stand down. Take a break while you can. Got to warn you: Captain's going to want to talk to you about this."

## III.

  


There was time for showers, anyway. Hot water was one of the few things _Brazil_ still supplied in abundance, Ben reflected. And they still had their own little suite: two bedroom cabins, their own bath, a small common space with a little fixed couch, one good reading chair - he was really the only one who did much reading, although Meg was starting to catch up with him in her old age - a double desk that did duty as a table, a tiny fridge, their own hotbox. Being a rider crew still had its perks. But the once-slick synth wood paneling was cracked and sagging in places, the upholstery was all shiny and even patched in spots, and everything look vaguely grimy, despite Sal's haphazard efforts at keeping it, as she said, a flash establishment.

He rubbed his hair dry and looked over his partners. Dek was as skinny a little punk as ever, and he was graying at the temples - which only seemed to improve his appeal to the women, the skuz. Sal's hair was still a deep, soft black, but she'd given up on the braids long ago - was it as much as 8 years? - and now it was shaved into spirals on the side of her head: quite a turn on, if you wanted the truth, even after all this time. Meg was on rejuv, but somehow still managing to find the hair dye - probably her entire stowage space was filled with the stuff. The tiny lines around her eyes had grown into crow's feet, but despite that, there was usually still quite a reaction among the guys when she walked down the corridors.

And him? Not quite as lean as he once was, a man had to admit it. But the sims still showed his reactions just as sharp, and dammit, there were not many crews that could work together as effectively as that of the _Salvador_. He kept track of things; he knew. Whether it was taking out mines and missiles on approach, outmaneuvering enemy defenders around a Union carrier, finessing a grapple - they still had it.

But now ... Meg and Sal were curled on opposite ends of the couch, Sal bundled in an ancient fuzzy jacket, Meg wrapped in a colorful quilt she'd put together in a fit of hobbyist enthusiasm at some point. Their sock-clad feet were nestled together in the middle, as though they couldn't stand to sit alone, and their faces were bleak. Dek was crouched at the edge of the reading chair, his tense posture mocking its aged comfort as he murdered a game on his reader. Their quarters, where they'd lived together for so many years, was usually their refuge. Now - it just wasn't.

Of course, there was always the possibility of bugs. And if he were _Brazil_ 's internal security chief and first officer, he'd be right on top of the report about possible bad attitude among the _Salvador_ mainday crew, and listening.

So he hung up the towel and dressed, as casually as he could. By the time he'd finished, Sal had revived enough to start repairing some damage to her manicure, and Meg had her eyes closed. He snagged his own reader and started thumbing along, as though looking something up. But actually, he was inputting to the screen.

"Hey, Meg, check it out."

She stirred and stretched, peering at the little display.

_Are we going to do anything about this?_

She frowned and shrugged. "Hell, Benjy cher, not now. Captain's gonna call any minute, right?"

Sal looked up, tiny brush in hand. "Pollard, you're such a scuz. You flashing that cheapass Mariner porn again?" She glanced over to catch the screen that he tipped in her direction and froze for half a second, then turned deliberately back to the tiny bottle of precious lacquer. "Not my speed right now, mate."

So that was that. No point in bothering Captain Moonbeam until after they saw what stance Barros was going to take. He sat down at the desk with the reader and made adjustments to a certain program he might want shortly, and had almost finished when the speakers summoned them to the Captain's presence.

## IV.

  


_Brazil_ 's captain was a damn big man, Sal thought, as she always did. Not a bad looker, either, if you liked that kind of hefty, jovial guy. Hair had been black, when they first met him all those years ago - a full head of it still, now silver with rejuv. Tall, big shoulders, big hands: Tavo Barros took up a lot of space. Yours, if you let him.

Noisy, pushing bastard chelovek. Talked too much. But he thought he was God, or maybe another Edmund Porey - which was probably the scarier thought, for anyone who had ever met that senior Fleet captain.

Seriously.

"Ladies, gentlemen - oh, such grim faces! Sit down, all of you .... "

Barros waved the four of them to the conference table in his office: a real wooden table top, the thing had, as big as _Salvador_ 's whole cockpit. Ken Trang, the first officer, was already seated by the captain's chair. Cold man, Trang. And very, very smart, according to Ben. Trang oversaw security, among other things.

They filed in, like they were walking to their own funeral ejections. Kady proved she wasn't damn down yet - went right up and sat at Barros' other hand. Then Dek, then her, and Benjy sat down by Trang, flicking a glance at the man's reader as he did so. Fancy piece, of course: she'd watched Ben Pollard lust after high tech for more years than she cared to count, and knew the symptoms.

Barros was still in fatherly mode, pouring water for everyone, and finally leaning back in his chair. He tented his fingers and went serious, so fast her stomach clenched. "Now - what the hell happened out there? Marwan said you claimed a comm malfunction." His voice was lower too, and it was Kady he was staring at. Dek was commander - on the records. But no one had any illusions about which partner really ran the show.

"Yes sir, that's what happened," said Meg, evenly. "But we saw the hit on _Manaus_. Figured some hotheaded Kimura kid had his finger on the fire-button, but they're all civs, so we moved to chaff their fire, cover _Manaus_ ' retreat - " But Barros was shaking his head.

"Wrong, Ms. Kady. Absolutely wrong. Those days are over. There _were_ no civilians out there. Those were enemy partisans." He sounded so damn reasonable, the son of a bitch. Looked smug, too, like he'd caught Kady somehow, some way that suited him. He put a different serious look on, easy as changing his pullover. Now he looked a little sad, a little disappointed. "I thought as much. That's the one problem with an older woman on a combat vessel. Biology catches up - there's no way we can avoid it. Your brain is saying `Protect the offspring, preserve the breeders, save the genes.' Time we reassessed some of our combat assignments. You are, after all, _the_ original rider crew."

Oh, he had their attention, all right. No way in _hell_ , captain sir. _Not_ splitting us up. Kady was just sitting there, looked like she'd frozen. Dek had this look like he'd strangle the bastard on the spot, if he could get his brain untangled enough to give his body the signals: he'd just about stopped breathing and was going deep red. But Ben -

"Captain Barros, does this mean re-training? New tapes?"

Cold as anything, smooth and easy ...he had something in mind, that was what. Benjy Pollard was plotting, behind that calm face. The only thing not calm was the way he was tapping on his reader screen. Tap, tap ... and after every couple of taps, he was flicking that finger in Trang's direction. Security Man was looking at his own reader, his face mostly blank ... but he was watching something there. She caught her breath for a second, and then pivoted one foot to rap Dek on the ankle. _He_ started breathing again, cast one distracted look around the faces at the table, then shrugged and looked down at the tabletop. He moved a little toward Kady - maybe he'd grabbed her hand. And that was fine: the two of them partners this long, there was no way Mr. Trang and the Captain could read anything odd about that

Barros was surprised- score one for their side. His eyebrows were up, and he was studying each face in turn. She gave him her blandest, blankest look when it was her turn. Finally, the man turned back to Ben. "Yes, of course. No worries about that. And we've got something special for that - Cyteen's latest and best. We'll slide Ms. Kady out - I rather think we'll have her as chief of the training facility, eventually, bringing the younger pilots long - and integrate Soji Cook in. We've been looking to put him into an active slot for some time, you know."

Nothing wrong with Soji - the only survivor of _San Paulo_ 's alterday crew, the only one who made it out of the accident that put their fourth rider out of business indefinitely - but some serious death and a lot of attitude. She felt cold in the pit of her stomach, thinking about that boy trying to keep the three of them up to date and oriented in a combat situation. She couldn't stay silent. "Sir - wasn't Soji their armscomper?"

He beamed at her like she was his prize pupil in a school class. "That's right, Ms. Aboujib. But we're going to start from scratch with the Aptitudes again. I have no doubt that Mr. Dekker will still be your pilot. But with this new deep-teaching system, there may be some reassignments in the other three slots."

_You son of bastard bitch! That's what nearly killed us when this whole program started! Don't care what new stuff you think you've got - can't just swap us like machine parts ... ._

"What's our timeline on this, Captain?" Ben's calm voice pulled her back. "Sorry if I'm out of line for asking, but this is serious business. It's me and my partners who'll be on the line if this goes wrong."

"Believe me, Mr. Pollard, I take it just as seriously as you do. You and the other riders are all we have to keep this carrier safe. I mean to take this as fast as we can - but no faster. We're headed into port - Russell's. After today's incident, the other rider crews would be understandably angry if you got a full shore leave, but I'm planning to turn you loose for the last two days of it."

He searched their faces again, hoping for some reaction. Finding none, he glanced at Trang, who looked back at him and shrugged. The Captain stood and nodded at them. "I'm sure you're tired - ladies, gentlemen. Dismissed."

## V.

  


They held it in until they got back to quarters, shrugging off concerned or mocking comments from crewmembers they passed in the hall. News seemed to have traveled. At last they were private - but when the door was shut, Meg glared at them all and held a finger to her lips. "We got to keep it together, kids. Remember - the worst hasn't hit. We're still breathing, right? We still got our home, such as it is. `Home is where the heart is.'"

They stared at her like she had gone completely insane - except then Ben nodded. _Good work, Benjy-cher_. "Dek - " she grabbed his hand, squeezed it hard, looked over at Sal and gestured to her ear. They both came to, remembering at last: the codephrase they'd hoped they'd never use. Ben was already at the table, working over his reader, setting in motion what they'd prepared. Sal stepped over to the `fridge, deliberately.

"Gonna pull us some beers, Kady."

"Hell with that - I've got some brandy," she answered, and put her arm around Dek's waist. "My last Earth brandy. We need it. C'mon, boy-doll, we'll survive. Let's get a drink." And Ben looked up.

"Got it. We're secure."

Sal looked troubled, her hands full of glasses. "Sure about that?"

And Ben was seriously pissed. "Sal - this is _me._ Trust me, Trang hasn't thought about this, and none of his gang are any brighter. Him and his lie detector. All his little bugs're are gonna tell him is that we're having some drinks and talking the old days."

"Sal, we got to assume that's right, or we're seriously screwed. We can't waste the time - we got to use every second." She pulled Dek over to the table and sat down herself. "You're with me - right? We can't let this happen. The way the war is going, we could all be dead in a month - but I want us all together `til that happens. I don't want to be left behind when you guys end up with the Kimuras."

Dek sat down beside her. "Meg, whatever you've got, I'm in it. Can't believe what the Captain's trying to pull - _Salvador_ 's gonna be a fireball in no time."

Sal had the brandy and was pouring out a couple of fingers in each glass. She stoppered the bottle and picked up her drink, swirling the liquor around and staring at it like it was in her targeting sights. "Kady - what kind of notion are we talking? I seriously don't want to end up fighting for the guns with Soji - but shit! What can we do?"

Never though to see that look on Sal's face again, _Brazil_ 's kill champion these days, queen of the armscompers. She'd worn that lost look almost 20 years back - real time -when they were first trying to create a functioning crew, back in the days of the Hellburner Project, and the early Aptitudes had put her in the wrong assignment. Ben remembered; he was scowling and looked to be leaning his leg against Sal's, trying to keep her - and himself - calm. Meg looked at the two of them, felt Dek shifting uneasily against her side, and felt dizzy for a moment with how much depended on her.

"We haven't got a lot of choices, but the captain just handed us one: We're pulling into Russell's and we got that last leave slot. When _Brazil_ leaves - we won't."

Dek just shook his head. "Meg - they won't pull out if we're not aboard. We're the _original_ crew - they can't just say they let us go. `Cause if we leave, so will others. Station crew won't stand up for us - not to a Fleet carrier. They'll turn us over."

"Only if they can find us, cher." She laced her fingers with his, nodded at the other two. "Benjy, you can pull the plans for Russell's from Trang - they've got them for the boarding crews, am I right? Just in case our marines have to go hand to hand on a station? And you were smart-ass little station brats, growing up. I bet we can find someplace to hole up on that station, sit tight - and when _Brazil_ jumps out, we can either try to find a sympathetic merchant or turn ourselves over to station central. There are rumors dockside what's been going on with the Fleet - bet we can work something out."

She knew it wasn't a great plan. In fact, it was a lousy one. There was every chance that Russell's would just hand them over to the next Fleet carrier that docked, and that ship's captain would have them executed. But no one else had a better one, even though they talked it out for a while, killing the brandy. In the end, they went with it.

## VI.

  


Three weeks later, ship time, Dek was packing up the last of his personals and shopping in the plush sitting room of their suite at Giordano's, one of Russell's best sleeperies, and reflecting that it would be a really good thing if no one ran a check on their purchases. Fleet personnel on liberty rarely bought basic rations and food concentrates. Meg was muttering to herself at the desk, running through a checklist on her reader. They had six hours until they were supposed to check in aboard _Brazil_ , and their timeline called for them to be out of the sleepery within the next 30 minutes. Suddenly the door banged open, causing him to drop the socks he'd been about to stuff into his carry and reach for his handarm. Meg was on her feet, looking like trouble, but the intrusion was just their missing partners, with Ben in the lead. She smacked the table, exasperated.

"Ben, you seriously better have a good reason for giving me a heart attack."

He waved away her words, looking smug, the sumbitch. "Got us some good news!"

"What? War's over, we're all honorably discharged?"

Sal snorted and dropped her last purchases on the couch. "No such, but not half bad. You know the place is crawling with marines from the _Asia_. Well, `bout half a squad was being kicked out of Startide's, every scut drunk off his ass, and bitching and moaning about getting an early call."

Meg raised her eyebrows, and Dek stopped hunting for the last square millimeters of space in his carry. "So that means - what? Ben, spill."

He leaned against the wall, fished out his reader, and tapped the screen. "You know we just had a ship make port. _Rafiqi_ , the board said - no port of origin. Well. coded comm flow on Fleet ops has been just _pouring_ out of that thing, to both _Brazil_ and _Asia_ , and then back and forth between ours and _Asia_ 's. I think we got us a Fleet operation in progress, partners. I think that little new arrival was one our spotters, and _Brazil_ 's not gonna have any time to worry about little old us."

Meg sat back and tapped her stylus on the tabletop. "Huh. Not bad, Benjy cher - not bad at all. You can bring me that flavor of news anytime. Two, maybe three ships to undock on short notice, and couple thousand libertied crew coming back in? We couldn't ask for a better going-away party."

For Dekker, it was like the course plot had just kicked in and he could see the way clear at last. He fastened the last pocket on the carry and tossed a case of game cards onto the couch beside Sal's junk. "Spot on. One of you got a spare corner for that? Let's not hang around - gotta go while we've got it."

With 10 minutes to spare, they slipped out of the room and vanished down an access corridor at the back of Giordano's. From there, it was a quick walk to a service access whose lock codes Ben had captured while still aboard ship. Then the crew of the ridership _Salvador_ vanished from station's accounting, leaving behind nothing but something in a paper envelope - an old-fashioned greeting card, from the looks of it - addressed to the captain of ECS 33 _Brazil_.

## VII.

  


The mood in _Brazil_ 's captain's office was tense. Danki Kaufman, second security officer, shifted uneasily from foot to foot as she and her superior Ken Trang watched the captain listening to his earpiece. Barros' face was flushed with anger and creased with worry. "Copy. Yes. No - we have no time. We'll deal with it on the return leg. Endit."

He wrenched the plug from his ear and dropped it to the tabletop. "No sign of them. Damn well could have been killed or captured by Union agents for all station knows. And we've got to pull out of here, pronto."

Trang nodded at Danki. "Kaufman found something, sir, when she questioned the service staff at Giordano's more closely. They thought it was something left in the way of a tip. We examined it already, of course."

She pulled the small envelope out of her evidence carry and silently handed it over. Barros turned it over, raising his eyebrows at the hand-scrawled name on the front, then opened it - it had already been unsealed - and pulled out the contents. A card, an actual heavy paper card, with a holographic image of the Crab Nebula. And more writing on the back. He read it and look up at them,  
mutely incredulous for a moment. Then - " _Suicide?_ `We can't stay together, and we decline to live apart' - they killed themselves? But no one's found ... bodies - have they?" Trang shook his head, grimly.

"No sir, and it's quite possible that the four of them just want us to _think_ that's what they've done. I've been over the stress analysis of that recording I made of the session where you broke the news of their reassignment. Pollard wasn't nearly as cool-headed about it as he was making out, although he's a remarkable actor when it comes to projecting confidence - not surprising for a man who wins as many poker games as he does. And the other three were radiating off the scale, even though we have nothing but body language for Dekker. We were a little surprised at how quietly they seemed to be going along with plans, actually. And now - "

"Dammit. Worse and worse. Well, we certainly can't let that possibility get out to the rest of the crew, and a team suicide is just as bad. Morale would just plummet." He shook his head. "Alright, the official line is that foul play is suspected, investigation is ongoing, but the best we can do for them now is to do our jobs on this operation - Mazian's waiting for us. We could be all be in major trouble - heading into a conflict missing our top rider crew? Helluva thing to have to do, Trang, but we're all out of choices."

## VIII.

  


The `tween-decks storage room had seemed almost cozy for the first few days, but at this point, Sal was ready to call it Russell's Auxiliary Tank Number One and be done with it: it had all the appeal of any prison cell she'd ever been in. Didn't matter that they could have a drink if they felt like it. The mats they'd stowed to sleep on were a helluva lot worse that a Fleet regulation bunk mattress, she was too damn tired of a choice of cards or vids on a tiny reader screen, she'd kill for a real shower, instead of a wipe-down with quick-wash towlette, and the toilet situation wasn't even to think about.

Maybe she was just spoiled. It had only been a couple days. Way back when, she'd been in a miner ship for weeks at a time with no one but Kady, nothing to do but watch the boards, tight little spaces, a shower not much better than those wipes. But since they'd become rider crew, they'd had life about as easy as you could on a ship: companions, entertainment, and the gym for down time, even a massage if you wanted one. And there was someone to hang with, if Ben got into one of these bit-headed phases like he in now: the sumbitch seemed just fine messing around with programming on his reader for hours on end.

Kady was still OK, calm as usual, and she'd even remembered (or more than likely made up) a couple more smuggling stories. But Dekker was like a slow-burning fuse, trapped here in this small space, and that meant Kady had to spend time making him chill, and with a boy like Dek, in a space like this, there were only a limited number of options. They'd rigged a privacy screen, but she and Ben could still hear every damn thing. It would be a different issue if it inspired Ben in any way, but no, most of time it was just him and that damn reader ... .

God, she missed some of their mates on _Brazil_. Iza Vanian, the purser, was always good for a card game, and funny as hell, too. Nik Federenko liked cards too, and he was a decorative chelovek to boot, and Ben never cared because Nik was an item with Davy Lowry, who was quiet, but nice company. And Rozy Costa - dirtiest mouth on the ship, some said, but she knew the craziest stories - even better than Kady. And she hadn't even been able to say goodbye , not really, because they weren't supposed to be going anywhere but on leave.

"Hey, Ben - gonna miss anyone on _Brazil_?"

Only a meter away, and he didn't hear a word. She was just about ready to grab the sumbitchin' thing _right_ out of his hands and take a dash down the access corridor to the disposal chute. In fact, she was getting up to do that very thing when he looked up and gave her the sweetest smile: straight to the heart, _bam_ , like that, and said "Hey, partner. Think I've got something here for you ."

And all of the sudden, she couldn't keep the mad going. "Like what? You've been screwing with that damn thing for hell and away longer `n you ever give _me_ ... ."

" _Brazil_ 's jumped out. Confirmed."

Smug as hell. It shouldn't have been a big deal, but it was - and he knew it. He'd noticed. She dropped back down on her knees and grabbed him and kissed him breathless, then released his mouth just long enough to shout: "All _right!_ "

Kady poked her head round the curtain two seconds later. "Shit, Sal, keep it down! I just got him sleeping."

Look at that face on Kady - maybe she even looked her age for once. It was cold seeing that - almost sucked out all the heat Ben had just given her. "Kady, hey - Ben's got the confirm, _Brazil_ 's outta here. We can get blow this closet."

Damn, she just sort of glowed when she got happy, didn't she? Made up for some of what these past few weeks had been like, since the _Shinkyo Maru_.

Kady wiped her sleeve across her eyes. "OK, soon as he wakes on his own," she said, her voice a little deeper than usual. Ben had been quiet, giving them a little time to sort it out, but now he got to his feet. "Meg, got to tell you one more thing - don't know if it means squat. But on the arrivals board - Lemieux' _Melusine_ docked 2 hours ago."

And didn't that feel like another blast from the core? They'd picked over _Melusine_ all those months ago, but there was no way the Lemieux family was over that. Kady got serious again. "OK, then - we wear civvies for sure."

## IX.

  


Almost 9 hours later, Ben led them out of the `tween-decks tunnels into an access corridor that came out near station Central. It was almost maindawn: alterday workers would be in their apartments or dorms, mainday crews just getting up, and only skeleton crews on most posts. He scanned the area beyond the door by tapping into a security camera: he'd spent most of his waking hours in their confinement penetrating most of Russell's security systems. "All clear, guys. Here's to luck - "

And he opened the door. No alarms, no surprises. They walked into the corridor, which looked pretty fine after three days of mechanical and sewage accesses, and heading to Central, trying to walk casually.

The heavy plex doors to the main station offices were guarded of course - not like military, just one woman at a console, facing the doors. "May I help you?" Meg came forward: one smallish woman, rab hair and earrings, flashy makeup, modish clothes with Meg's own antique rab twist. The situation looked mildly odd, Ben thought, but the guard shouldn't feel threatened.

"We need to speak with the stationmaster, urgent."

The guard looked perplexed, frowned. "She's not in yet. And she has an appointment as soon as she arrives. You'll have to take a seat."

That was the one problem with this part of the plan. They'd half expected it. Meg looked back at them and shrugged. The guard fiddled with her console and the inner door of the lobby opened; a smell of coffee drifted out. "Have a seat."

Meg led the way into the waiting area and stopped in the doorway for a second before she continued on. There was something about the way she was moving all the sudden that made Ben feel like he'd already had too much caffeine. And then he saw: the waiting room was already occupied. The first of the plushy but worn grey sectionals was occupied by three men and a woman in flash merchanter coveralls, shiny black and pale pearly green, and with a patch of a woman with a fish tail instead of legs: _Melusine_ 's officers and crew, come to pay their formal call on the stationmaster.

The woman and one of the men were grey-haired, likely rejuved. One of the men was about his own age, dark-haired but not real young, calm and solid. And the fourth merchanter was young and sullen and bored, playing a game on his reader while the seniors talked quietly and sipped their coffee. And it might really be _their_ coffee - part of what they'd removed from _Melusine_ had been Earth luxury goods. He'd been looking forward to a cup, but now the thought made him queasy.

Meg sauntered forward, nodded courteously at the merchanters, and went for the coffee. "Come on, guys, smells real." Dek was clearly _not_ looking at the other four. Ben just hoped it wasn't as obvious to them as it was to him. Sal put on a pretty good poker face and heading for the pastries, so he followed her lead. Meg poured Dek some coffee too and went to sit down on the sectional farthest away from the others, Captain Moonbeam following her like he was glued to her elbow. Sal's eyes flicked to the merchanters, and Ben's followed: the middle-aged guy was staring. They didn't look like merchanters: station civ clothes, but not the usual conservative station fashion, not a ship patch in sight, Ben fervently hoped that whatever the seniors were saying, it was seriously important to them, and that the kid's game was something he'd been dying to break his high score on for the last month.

"So, Sal, what do you want for New Year's?" he said, as cool as he could manage. She gave him a wide-eyed look, but then pulled out her reader and conjured up a list. An effin' _list_. She'd been _thinking_ about it. Things felt less desperate for a couple minutes.

A few moments later, a guy peered out of the inner doorway. "Kito Lemieux and party?"

The other crew got to their feet and followed the stationmaster's aide out. The middle-aged guy took a last lingering look at them. It was hard not to look back at him. "Meg!" whispered Dek, urgently, as soon as the door was well shut. "Hush, jeune rab," she murmured back. "Soyez calme, we're alright. We look funny, that's all. They got profits to worry about."

Damn straight the merchanters did. _They'd_ been the ones to remove half the last cargo that ship had carried. Meg pulled out a deck of cards and dealt out poker hands on the little table in front of the sectional. "Pick `em up, kids. Come on - do it."

Ben couldn't remember the last time he'd been this uninterested in a game of cards. They played extremely badly for the better part of an hour, and then the inner door opened again. What was presumably the stationmaster, a short, heavyset woman with skin that had been very dark but was now a light caramel with rejuv, came out with the _Melusine_ party, exchanging polite B.S., with the aide following behind along with another man. As the merchanter party headed for the outer doors, the stationmaster put her hands on her considerable hips and frowned at them.

"Adia Nayyar, stationmaster" she said, nodding shortly. "And I see no one without some sort of identification. What's the big mystery?"

They all rose, and Meg came forward with her ID packet in her hands. The new guy met her and ran a larger-than-usual reader across the it. _Sniffer_ , thought Ben. Analyzing the cards' chemical signatures as well as the electronic ID marks. The aide craned his head past his boss, squinted at the packet cover, and pursed his lips. " _Brazil?_ "

Ben whipped around toward the door. And shit yes, the merchanters were still there, and the suspicious guy was turning away to murmur to the seniors. A couple seconds later, the kid with the game erupted into the room, reaching into his pocket and screaming. "Pirates! Effin' murderers! First our stuff, and then all those kids -!"

The stationmaster backed toward her office, with her aide and her security expert trying to cover her. Sal tried to push Meg and Dek after them. The older merchanters went to grab their kid, shouting at him: "Chev, no! You can't - "

 _Shinkyo Maru_. Somehow they'd found out about the Kimuras. They must have come through Kei's, and after their own experience with _Brazil,_ the conclusion was there to be made. And this Lemieux kid - just the right age for idealism, and a hot temper. After all their planning, all those sleepless nights, damned if he was going to let his partners be taken out by some 17-year-old hothead. He lunged for the kid, who was pulling his hand out of his pocket.

Ben saw the flash from the kid's hand, felt a crushing pressure in his chest and then a searing burn down one leg. Heard Sal shout his name, and Dek cursing. He was falling to the carpeted deck of the waiting room, the remaining air crushed out of his lungs as he hit, and the kid was staring at him with horror all over his young, stupid face.

Idiot, he thought. If you shoot someone, that's what happens. And then, darkness.

## X.

  


Dek gave up any pretense of reading. The crappy reader they'd given him had such a cheap display that it was giving him a headache anyway. He got up from the hard, lumpy bunk and paced the cell again. Two paces by three paces. Same as it always was. He'd had 15 days to check it out. Not any smaller than some cabins he'd had aboard ship, but here the door didn't open except to a guard's badge and code. And he was so damn tired of being alone. Of course Meg and Sal were in a different cell - on a different corridor, even. He got to visit with them for one hour every three days. Supervised.

And they didn't let any of them see Ben at all. Not even Sal. Ben wasn't dead. They'd been told that officially, and the guards were such total bastards that if their partner had died, they'd be only too happy to let the _Brazil_ murderers know. So he was alive. Dek held onto that fact.

He never thought he'd be missing Ben this way. If it had happened to Meg - it would have been Cory's death all over again. Cory Salazar, his first partner, dead in a mining accident that had been no accident. But Ben had always been too slick for the bastards: too smart, too cynical. No one ever got Ben down. But that kid had. That angry kid, less than half his age. And it was beyond unfair: they had been in trouble on _Brazil_ for being less than copacetic with the _Shinkyo Maru_ situation, and here they were, symbol of the whole thing. Disgusting Fleet pirates. Psychos. Killers.

He could hear the guards out in the corridor. He recognized the voices now. It was Perez, who was not such a bad guy, and Hicks, who was a total ass. They were talking about New Year's. And when he counted off the days, he realized that it was almost that day: holiday time, and they were in prison, and Ben in hospital.

Happy New Year, guys.

Then he heard the lock mechanism on his door engage. Hicks was opening the door, a pair of restraints in his hands: more than a head taller than him, sparse sandy hair and cold grey eyes. "Hold out your hands. There. Now out, you runty bastard."

"That's enough, Mr. Hicks," said a woman's voice from the corridor: a deep voice he didn't recognize, and when he stepped out, he saw a tall person, iron-grey hair, expensive-looking dark green suit. "Mr. Dekker, I'm Tasya Keefe, Legal Affairs, Russell's. You're being transferred to the custody of the Earth Company carrier that's recently docked. They've been given all the files on your case, including your testimony and that of the _Melusine_ crew." She turned and walked out, leaving him to be herded along between Hicks and Perez.

A Fleet carrier. That was it, then. Desertion during wartime. They could all be dead very soon, in front of a firing squad. Unlike a station, the Fleet didn't have any prisons. In the detention center's front room, Meg and Sal were waiting, likewise cuffed, likewise escorted. And Ben was nowhere to be seen. "Hey," he said. "Where's our number 4? Ben Pollard?"

Keefe looked at him like he was one step away from something that should go out an airlock. "Not my issue. Take it up with the ship's commander."

He couldn't think, he could hardly breathe, he was so angry. But he saw Meg across the room, face pale, red hair silver at the roots, shadows under her eyes - calm. Calm and cold. She knew better, she'd think of something. Ben was still alive. They all were.

"Ms. Keefe," said Meg. "Do you know which ship?" An important question. Please, not _Brazil_. And not Porey's _Africa_ , either.

"Not yours," the woman said, at last. So they had that much hope, anyway.

## XI.

  


Signy watched the Old Man lean close to the mic and flip the toggle.

"Attention, _Norway_. First, let me congratulate you once more on our previous action. You'll be delighted to know that Lim, Mailie, and Saunders are all off the danger list. It's also my pleasure to offer you the best wishes of Russells' stationmaster on your upcoming leave, and she hopes you'll spend a very pleasant New Year's with them.

"Now, to more serious matters. As you know, no commander can remain at his post forever. I was not young when I took this post, and we've seen a lot of actions together, some of them bitter, and many of them hard. Through it all, I've been honored to be your commander, but now I feel that I can no longer give you the leadership you need in these troubled times.

"I don't think this comes as a surprise to many of you, and I don't think my next announcement will, either. Your new captain is Signy Mallory. You know how she's worked her way up honestly, has been among you as ridership captain, rider ops chief, and my second in command. I ask that you give her the same respect that you have given me. Gentlemen, ladies, I give you Captain Signy Mallory."

She ignored the tightening of her gut, the peppery feeling in her nose and eyes, as Captain Tord Halvorsen, no longer her commander, pushed back from the mic. This office, that console - hers now. And her crew awaited her words. She drew a deep breath.

"This is Mallory. You've heard Captain Halvorsen. He's earned your respect the long way, no cutting corners, and I expect to do the same. I am going to do my utmost to do him - _and you -_ proud. _Norway_ is, and always has been, the finest ship in the fleet, and bears one of the finest crews. I intend to carry that reputation forward, and I expect you to do the same.

"There have been some unpleasant rumors going around about some representatives of the Fleet, and we're going to be investigating that situation in full here at Russell's. I depend on you to keep yourselves in good order while on liberty here. Drink `til you drop, if you want to, spend your time with any stationer or merchant who gives you the come-on, but remember where you belong, and act accordingly. We're here to defend Earth's citizens, and we don't want anyone on station doubting that.

"Jurgen Graff will be moving up to second in command, and Mandara Goel will remain as Com One. Should you have any urgent business that needs my attention, you can contact them. They have standing instructions to make sure I know what's on your minds.

"Thank you, and get ready for a damn good time on dockside. You've earned it."

There was cheering - they could hear it through the door. Signy felt some of the tensions unknot, but that just made more room for the feeling of responsibility. Thousands of lives aboard _Norway_ , and now they were in her hand. She eased back from the mic and looked at Halvorsen, seeing the slight transparency to the skin, the thinning grey hair, the sunken eyes. They were doing the right thing, and he'd had a long, mostly satisfying career, but it was still a sad moment.

"About that other matter," he said, continuing their earlier conversation; "The _Brazil_ crewmembers are aboard now. I hate to have you start your new career with this, but -"

"I know. It can't all be military tactics and glory. I knew that when I agreed to it. My eyes are wide open, Captain."

A slight smile: "I have every confidence they are, Captain. But what I was getting at was, the easiest solution might be just to go by the book: they deserted during war. An execution's a terrible thing, but it's easier to make an example with these four, whom you don't know. Down the line, with your own people, you can be more lenient."

She glanced over at her new executive staff, Goel and Graff. Some of the older hands called Com One "the Sphinx" because she never showed her feelings. Signy had seen a picture of that famous Earth relic and couldn't really disagree with the nickname. But Graff glanced at her a second before resuming his usual alert, calm expression.

"Thanks for the advice, Captain Halvorsen," she said. He grunted and nodded, then rose to his feet. "I'll leave you to it, then."

She rose too, for courtesy, and nodded in return. As he left, she gestured to Goel. "Thanks for the assist. Going out out with the first wave, aren't you? Have a drink for me, then. Graff - a word with you." And then, as the door shut behind Com One: "What's the deal, Number Two? You don't agree with the Old Man?"

Graff shook his head. "Waste of resources. That's a trained, experienced crew, and we need them. And he's right that you don't know them - but I do."

" _Do_ you? How?"

"Captain, that's the original Hellburner core crew. The ones that made the first ridership training tapes. I was their personnel officer during that project. There's got to be something behind that story of why they went AWOL."

She sat down at the captain's desk - her desk - and leaned her chin on her hand. "Tell me more, Mr. Graff."

## XII.

  


"We're leaving a crewmember behind on station," repeated Meg, doggedly. The _Norway_ marines who were hustling them through the carrier's corridors weren't talking, but no one had tried to make her shut up yet, either. "His name is Ben Pollard. He's our longscanner, and a crack computer tech. You seriously can't afford to leave him behind, you sumbitches -"

The marines in the lead opened a door to a sizeable space - it must be _Norway_ 's largest briefing room, if the deck plan was the same as _Brazil_ 's. At the big table was a tough-looking woman with captain's insignia, rejuv-silvered hair, and cold, cold eyes. Captain Mallory. They'd heard the announcement as they were cooling their heels in security. Brand-new commission on _Norway_ , and they were this woman's first issue. Couldn't ask for worse timing. Next seat over was a darker-skinned woman, also rejuved, but seemingly older, and holding a reader with a stylus. This one had the best poker face Meg had ever seen: no expression at all. The marines fell back against the wall, leaving the three of them standing there.

"I'm Mallory," said the captain. "This is Com One, Mandara Goel. Which one of you is Magritte Kady?"

Meg stepped forward. So did the marines. The captain waved them back. "So you're Soheila Aboujib, and _you're_ Paul Dekker. And you've jumped ship after having careers that should make any crewmember proud. " Mallory leaned forward, and if anything, her gaze grew even colder. "Just when things are getting tough for the Fleet. You damn well better have an explanation. Commander Dekker?"

 _God_. Not Dek. He was all tied in knots - he'd be lucky to get a sentence out. He was never any good with his mouth when things got emotional. But he tried. "Captain. The supply situation ... Captain Barros - he had us going after ... after some alternative sources of supply. Merchanters."

Mallory leaned back in her seat and crossed her arms. "Oh? And how did Barros have you persuade these merchanters to share supplies?"

She knows, thought Meg, suddenly. She wants to hear it from us, but she knows. Dek was stammering - he hadn't figured what she'd figured, was shaking with nerves. "C-captain. At gunpoint. Honest truth. Told them they should volunteer, but if they didn't - if they didn't offer enough, he - we held them up."

"Piracy," said the Captain, softly. "So you didn't approve - is that it?"

She couldn't take it any longer. "Captain, he had us completely blow the last ship he made us challenge - Kimura's _Shinkyo Maru_. And go back to take out the capsule with the kids."

"I didn't ask you, Ms. Kady, but in fact, that corroborates a report we had. So that's when you decided to leave, Commander?"

"I - no. Right afterward. Captain said ... said Meg was the problem. That she was getting too old. Soft about civs. Told us - " Dek couldn't get the words out - there were too many implications to everything he was saying, and the possibilities and the fact that he couldn't read Mallory were choking him. Sal shouldered her way past him. "Captain? Can I ... ?"

Mallory made an exasperated gesture. "Aboujib."

"Man told us he was splitting us up. Pulling Kady out, putting in another guy, the only guy that survived a crack-up. Captain, it wouldn't work, not after all this time. And he was going to run some kind of Union tape on us, something Fleet hadn't even tried yet. We were gonna die out there, and leave Kady back on _Brazil_ alone - for as long as _Brazil_ lasted without our ship. It was our lives, Captain - not just that stuff he had us do."

Meg's mouth was dry. "Captain - "

Mallory's expression hardened, but then a touch of amusement came into her chilly eyes - which didn't make the situation any better. Meg wasn't sure she wanted to be around to see Mallory's idea of a joke. "All of you, is it?" said the captain. "Ms. Kady. Have your say."

"Captain, we were ready to die for the Fleet anytime against Union warships. But not because someone decided we were interchangeable parts - after telling us that little kids were enemy partisans. Not when we haven't heard that's Fleet policy."

"You've been following Fleet orders for close to 20 years now, Earth time, Ms Kady, but I'm betting that if what happened at Kei's _was_ Fleet policy, you'd've still ended up here."

There was no good answer to that. Mallory looked over at Goel, who tilted her reader to let her captain read the screen. Mallory's chilly gaze returned to the three of them. "You may not know it, but we just came from a major action against three Union carriers. _Brazil_ was there; _Asia_ too. We made it back. _Brazil_ didn't."

There was a sudden silence so deep that all Meg could hear was the blood pounding through her ears. Mr. Mar, Teb, Kenzie down in supply, Yegor the chief cook, Sal's crazy buddy Rozy and her filthy mouth ... all gone. Sal had gone gray. Dek's jaw worked; then - "You're trying to make us break!"

"No," said Mallory, calmly. "I am not, Mr. Dekker. This is a war, and ships get destroyed. If I decide to return you and your crew to active duty, it will be easy enough for you to check up on this. For that matter, we rescued five crew and half a squad of _Brazil_ marines, crammed into a repair skimmer that made it out of the debris somehow. You could ask them. Funny thing - they hadn't heard anything about the four of you going missing."

She leaned back in her chair again. "I don't say that I have no sympathy with your position on what happened out there, but what are you going to do when the choice is between your partners and some civilian kids?"

Meg's mouth wasn't working at all. She couldn't come up with an answer that even _she_ liked to that one, let alone figure what Mallory wanted to hear. And neither of her partners seemed to be flying any better than she was. Mallory stared each of them in the face in turn, then straightened up and rapped sharply on the tabletop. "Listen up. You can't always make a clean decision. But _my_ policy is that a good commander tries to ensure that her crew isn't faced with that type of decision in the first place." She tapped the com button on her collar. "Helm One, you copy? Come on in and tell us _your_ opinion on this."

The door behind them opened, but of course they couldn't turn around to look. A male voice said "My opinion, Captain? You gave them the right answer."

 _Familiar_ voice, and Meg just couldn't place it. Wasn't anyone she expected to hear on _Norway_. A slightly built man in a commander's uniform came to stand by Mallory: fair-skinned, silver-haired, with a thin, angular face. "Kady, Aboujib, Dekker - you're looking good ... all things considered."

Her brain suddenly slipped into orientation, and she never thought she'd be so relieved to see a higher-ranking officer in her life. "L ... Commander Graff?"

His lean faced creased slightly into an almost-smile. "Got it in one, Ms. Kady."

Mallory frowned at him, but there wasn't much edge to it. "Cut the chitchat, Commander; that's not what I asked you."

"Apologies, ma'am. I'd say, swing-shift backup for our riders. Chief Nozaki would be glad to have them, he says."

Mallory nodded once, then rose to her feet. "Still, these are grave charges. As Captain of this ship and ranking Fleet officer in the zone, I sentence you four to dishonorable discharge for desertion - not under fire, and under duress and harassment by a superior officer. However, due to the current situation in the Fleet and the shortage of qualified personnel on this ship, I commute that sentence to one year of hard labor, to be served as swing-shift backup for all eight of our rider crews - _I_ sure as hell wouldn't want to have to do that again. And of course, pertinent remarks will be entered into your personnel records, and any future such charges will be answered with the ultimate penalty. See to it, Mr. Graff." She stalked to the door, trailed by Goel, but stopped in the hatchway amoment before she left: "By the way - Happy New Year. And welcome aboard."

Graff came back around the table and collected the key to the cuffs from the marine squad leader, then unshackled them himself as they stood there, stunned. "Ben -" said Sal, urgently. Graff smiled, working on Dek's cuffs. "Aboard ship, in sick bay; arrived an hour before you three. I've talked to him, and to the chief med. He's stable, should make a full recovery. But he's resting now after the transfer. You can inspect him yourselves when he's awake. Meanwhile, you need to check into quarters, get settled - we even got your stuff that you left in the sleepover. Then report to the rider lounge."

Sal had her hands over her mouth like she was afraid of what she might let loose; her eyes looked suspiciously bright. Dek had gone damn near limp with relief and was leaning against the table rubbing _his_ eyes and shaking his head. Meg felt the need to swallow several times and do some blinking herself. Finally her mouth was back in working order. "The lounge? Why ?"

"New Year's party, of course. Given the date, what'd you expect?"

## XIII.

  


Sal fought her way through the crowded lounge to where Dek was sitting in a corner, nursing a beer. Must be parties all over _Norway_ tonight, all the scuts who hadn't got the first leave assignment. People kept disappearing, and new faces  
kept showing up - and some not so new. Graff wasn't the only Hellburner vet on _Norway_. The rider crew lounge was all done up with streamers, crew-made banners, and _balloons_ \- God, she'd never thought to see balloons on a Fleet carrier. There were all kinds of drinks, snacks she hadn't tasted for years, a huge cake, card games and drinking games, a pool table in heavy use, and loud, loud music.

She'd thought that if she couldn't be with Ben, this was next best: old friends and new, drinks and gambling, some pretty nice scenery with the younger flyboys, yes indeed. But now she felt like Dek looked: tired, nerves shot, and empty inside. She wouldn't see Rozy coming through that door to make catcalls at those pretty boys, or Nik and Davy making out in a corner to amuse their fangirls, or Iza waving a pack of cards and ready to take all their dockside shopping cash. _Never again, not one ... ._

Kady was coming over, holding a glass of something dark, no bubbles she could see, and chunks of something in it, godawful-looking stuff - "What the hell _is_ that, Kady?"

"Sangria. Wine and fruit and juice. Best damn stuff - haven't had any since we left Sol System - `cept I think some of this fruit's from Pell."

"Did I see you talking to Almarshad? How's he doing?"

"Good, he's fine. Says Mallory's a hard bitch but an honest hard bitch. Crew has no issues with her taking over as captain."

"All right then." Even to her, it came out sounding flat. Kady gave her a hard look, then focused on Dek. A second later she was removing his beer glass and sliding onto his lap. "Jeune rab, you don't look so good. And neither does my girlfriend there."

"Kady, I've seriously had enough party. Normally I'd be right there with drinks and the pretty guys but ... I think we were in that station tank just a little too long. And that damn little hole before then. And then ... all those guys on _Brazil_. We never even got to say goodbye. My bunk's starting to sound awful good ... even without Ben in it."

Dek had closed his eyes and was resting his forehead against Kady's shoulder, his arms around her waist. "Bed sounds awfully good to me too, Meg ... ."

Sleep wasn't what the man was thinking of. Her eyes were stinging; she wanted to punch both of them, but that wasn't fair, anymore than it was fair that she didn't have her bedmate back. Shit happened. Especially in war, like the captain said. And she knew she wanted the two of them to have a little time together; they were her partners, and she wanted them happy. "I'm gone, guys." She turned and fought her way to the door.

She found Graff waiting for her. "Leaving already, Aboujib?"

"All done in, sir. It's a hell of a party, but I don't got what it takes to enjoy it just now."

The other two had caught up with her. The commander looked them over and shrugged. "All of you look like hell. No surprise, I guess. But don't sack out for a couple minutes - I have a little something for you from all of us. New Year's present. I'll bring it by"

## XIV.

The new quarters were a skosh smaller than the old quarters. They'd been first among the rider crews on _Brazil_ , and here they were last. Dek wasn't about to start caring. It was their own place, regardless. Even though it didn't feel like home. It wasn't like they had anything to mark it as theirs. He'd never been much of one for possessions, nor were the others, although Meg liked little souvenirs. But the keepsakes she'd collected over the years were now atoms scattered between the stars, mixed with the dust of their former comrades in arms ... no. If he started thinking that way, it could get bad.

He wished they hadn't agreed to wait for Graff. It was hard to keep his hands off Meg, and he knew he should, `til they were private, for Sal's sake. She was sitting curled in the big chair - same upholstery as their old chair, just not quite as worn - with her eyes closed. He was sideways on the couch, with Meg rubbing his back. He laced his fingers together, closed his eyes too, and tried as hard as he could not to think about where he'd rather Meg put her hands.

The suite outer door buzzed at last, and Sal got up to answer it. He heard her exchange military courtesies with Graff, then the sound of heavy footsteps - and Sal screamed.

They were off the couch and on their feet before she stopped. A huge guy, all muscle and dressed as a med tech, was supporting Ben in the doorway. Graff, holding a sheaf of papers, was just inside the door, grinning. And Sal was standing frozen with her hands out, like she was dying to touch her partner and totally afraid of it at the same time.

"What the hell?" demanded Ben, sounding pissed. "Aren't you happy to see me?"

Sal stared at him, and then unfroze all at once - came right up and let him have it, right in the face: "Dammit, Pollard, you effin' scuz! Why the hell'd you try to grab that stupid kid? I been just about _shit_ outta my _mind_ worrying about you ... !

Then she put both hands on his face and kissed the hell out of him, so hard that the med started to look seriously concerned. "Man's just out of hospital, ma'am. Maybe ... ."

Sal finally him go, and Ben just hung there, blinking and swaying and getting this totally stupid grin on his face. "Tell you what, Solly, put me to bed and get the hell of here, OK?" Solly shrugged, as best he could with Ben's arm over his shoulders. "That's what Doc said, anyway, sir."

They headed off toward the other bedroom, Sal walking backward in front of them like she couldn't stop looking at Ben. Graff handed Meg the papers: "Doc's orders. Mostly, keep him quiet. They know she was waiting for him, though -" with a grin. Solly came out, face red, and shut the bedroom door behind him. Having seen Sal in action, Dek was not surprised. Graff winked at them, then herded the big guy out the door ahead of him. "Good night, Mr. Dekker, Ms. Kady. Tell those two I said Happy New Year"

Alone at last - and Meg was grinning at him. But what she said was, "You know, cher, they didn't even say `g'night.' Thought we trained them better than that - we gonna let them get away with it?"

And he couldn't help grinning like a fool right back, because now, this place looked pretty good to him. Just about everything was where it should be. "Hell if," he agreed. And pounded on their partners' door. "Hey, Ben! Sal!"

There was a moment's appalled silence; then "What? Goddammit, Moonbeam, you better have something real to tell us!"

"Seriously real, Ben. It's 23:55 on December 31st. And Graff says to tell you guys `Happy New Year.'"

Silence. again. Finally: "Dek, do I have to come out there and kill you after all I been through?" And Sal: "Meg, can't you sit on that man?"

Meg joined him at the door. "Hey, guys? _Good night_."

They could hear Sal laughing now. "Hell," said Ben. "Is _that_ it? And after all I've done for you. OK. Good effin' night. And Happy Effin' New Year."

Dek looked down at Meg. She was laughing too, so hard that tears were rolling down her cheeks, and she had to take a deep breath before she could talk. "Sweet dreams, Benjy cher. Welcome home."

And somehow, those words seemed to be the best thing he'd ever heard anyone say. He put his arms around Meg, and felt her turn to hold him, and it was like the last piece he'd been missing was back where it belonged. He pressed his face into her hair. "You too, Meg," he whispered. "Welcome home."

   
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